


No, Sollux, that is a bad idea.

by grimdark_and_psycho



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Anarchy, Ancestors, Angry Karkat, Crying, Eridan Is Not Enjoying This, Fun, I'm Bad At Tagging, Karkat Is Mad, M/M, Meteor, Mituna Takes Things Way Too Seriously, Post-Sburb/Sgrub, Sollux Cannot Behave, Sollux Has A Bad Idea, Then Goes Through With It, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Virska And Terezi Are Having Fun
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-13 01:54:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5690116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimdark_and_psycho/pseuds/grimdark_and_psycho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sollux has a very bad idea, then decides to go through with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No, Sollux, that is a bad idea.

**Author's Note:**

> I tried. I really did.

.Sollux Captor has an idea. An idea that will take lots of time, support, and resources. An idea that must be planned carefully. An idea that must be worked on for a long time. An idea that one to swear oneself to it. An idea that will be beautiful once complete. An idea that he plans to execute to the fullest. And, most importantly, an extremely bad idea. An idea that will make Karkat very mad. An idea that will land him in the deepest trouble that he’s ever been in. An idea that he loves. 

He soon begins to plan out the execution of his brilliant idea. A sheet of notebook paper lies before him, and it is soon filled with long words and intricate diagrams. He begins to mutter to himself as the last space on said piece of paper is filled, and the sheet replaced with a new one. Thankfully, everyone else is busy on other less secluded parts of the meteor, and no one is there to here as his muttering gets louder, soon becoming garbled words. Soon, the second piece of paper has been filled with the inane scribbles of a genius at work, and Sollux Captor stands up, his desk chair rolling frantically backwards, with a contented sigh.

First, if his idea is to have even the slightest chance of success, he will need support from a few of the other inhabitants of the meteor. He decides to first ask his kismesis, Eridan Ampora, who he knows he can find resources from. He ventures out of the partially hidden room, on the perilous journey to the seatroll’s hive, where said seatroll is most likely sitting and watching troll Netflix. The violet blood happens to be rather partial to older Western movies, coupled with a side of reality-TV addiction. It is quite a long walk, yet strangely, he encounters only one person. That person being Karkat Vantas, who expediently stops him, seeing the rather unnerving smile on the yellow blood’s face.

“SOLLUX, YOU’RE SMILING. WHAT ON ALTERNIA COULD YOU POSSIBLY HAVE DONE?”

“Oh, nothing. II wa2 ju2t thiinkiing of the puffed gelatiinou2 2ugar 2phere iinciident.”

“YOU KNOW, WE STILL HAVEN’T GOTTEN THE CHARRED GELATIN OFF OF THE COMMON ROOM CEILING. YOU MUST BE PRETTY HAPPY WITH YOURSELF FOR THAT.”

“Ye2, ye2 II am. Well, II have thiings two do, 2o 2ee ya KK.”

And with that, Sollux leaves the room, leaving his mutant blooded friend behind. Karkat wonders, for a second, in all caps, why the psionic would choose to remember such an occurrence, then shoves it out of his head, in order to concentrate on the more important things at hand, such as keeping Terezi from eating all of the chalk, or avoiding his dancestor. Yet there is one thing that he cannot push out of his think pan, that thing being the puffed gelatinous sugar sphere incident. Who would have known that puffed gelatinous sugar spheres, in their perfectly delicious creamy soft roundness, could adhere to a ceiling so quickly after being heated, and that they would be so terribly hard to remove?

Sollux knocks heavily on his kismesis’ door. When the pounding goes unanswered, he calls out to the seatroll. His clamor is unheeded, and he begins to become frustrated. After fifteen minutes with only silence from the other side of the door, the psionic is worried. Thirty seconds is more than enough time to break down a door using psionics, and the exact amount of time that it would take Eridan to reach the door from his current position. Both go about these respective tasks, and the timing is perfect. As Eridan clasps the door handle, the door flies off of its hinges and into the nutrition block wall, promptly crushing the angered violet blood.

“ED, where are you? Are you okay?”

“No, I am not okay, you indecisive, disproportionate, land laboring, paltry sack of refuse! You crushed me wwith a door and then asked if I wwas okay! Wwho evven does that?”

“Crushed you wiith a door? Oh no, 2orry, I diidn’t know that you were there. II thought that you had died iin2iide of your hive!”

“Howw wwould I havve died, you ignorant, dirt licking mud sponge?”

“Two many bad we2tern moviie2 can do horiible thiings two a per2on, you know.”

“Just shut up and help me, you illiterate, uncultured heathen!”

“Well, 2omeone’2 fiie2ty twoday.”

“Wwould you mind shutting your ovverly greasy nutrition absorber and helping me before I forcefully rip your protein chute out?”

And with that, the jittery yellow blood uses his psionics to extract the door and his kismesis from the freshly formed hole in the wall. Eridan has a large bruise accenting his left eye, and a small cut dripping vibrant violet onto his right cheek. He shivers slightly, as if to shake himself out, and pops his shoulder, which is bent at an odd angle, back into place. Thankfully, his clothes have remained undamaged, spare the plaster dust coating his cape. He brushes the aforementioned dust off of the violent violet fabric, and shoots his kismesis an icy glare. Sollux simply shrugs and winks suggestively at the high blood. Eridan sighs in return, knowing that his quadrant mate will continue to be unbearable. Sollux then speaks.

“II came over here two tell you that II have an iidea.”

“Oh dear gog no. I am not getting myshellf invvolvved in this. I’vve learned my lesson.”

“C’mon, ED, iit’s not liike we’re throwing the entiire meteor iinto anarchy or 2omethiing like that! Oh, waiit, no, that’2 exactly what we’re doiing.”

“This is, most literally, the wworst idea that you’vve evver had. And, compared to the other things you’vve said and done, that means a lot.”

“2o are you wiith me or not?”

“I am going to regret this, but I’m wwith you. The idea is simply so atrocious that I can’t resist. And that’s saying somefin.” 

“Great. Fiir2t, we need to recruiit 2ome help, 2ince II’ve made a plan already. Who 2hould I try next?”

“No, first I need to proofread your plan. You look like you havven’t slept since gog knowws wwhen, and the thing is apt to be riddled wwith mistakes.”

“II got 2ome 2leep three days ago, but okay.”

“Sol, you do realize that normal trolls sleep every day, right?”

“II am not a normal troll.”

“That’s to say the least.”

**Author's Note:**

> This fic will update weekly on Sundays  
> If you want a fic written and the prompt meme hasn't worked out for you, comment said prompt down below and I will write it. New ideas are always welcome.  
> This chapter was inspired by the song 'Sofi Needs A Ladder' by Deadmau5


End file.
